


Bound

by amaharra



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut???, F/M, Fluff, I'M TRYING TO GET BACK INTO WRITING, IDK IF IT'LL STICK, Other, maybe????
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaharra/pseuds/amaharra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is awful don't read this READ MY OTHER FICS THEY'RE BETTER</p><p>On what was supposed to be a calm and short mission, Bel'Era finds herself stranded in the Hinterlands with a heavily injured Solas.<br/>(Not quite sure where this is going but hey, that's kinda fun! Some blood mention.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a random prompt I saw on Tumblr.  
> I'm really really nervous about posting my writing on public websites and while I do typically appreciate constructive criticism please go easy on me!!!!  
> Thinking of turning this into a series but only if people actually like it.

Bel’Era looked frantically around the clearing, eyes darting from each still figure in search of Solas, her panic then rising when she does not find him. She tries to call out for him but her throat is hoarse from the exertion of battle and she winces in pain at the attempt, putting a hand to the rock-face next to her to steady herself. The air in the Hinterlands was cold and dry which only made her aches and pains more pronounced.

It was supposed to be a fairly simple mission; they were only supposed to collect some herbs for a healer, and so she had forgone the usual party of four in favour of the elven mage who she had wanted to get to know better. They had turned a corner and were set upon by at least 5 red-lyrium smugglers, and saying they were ill-prepared would be an understatement. Solas had managed to keep up the barrier that shielded them both from the brunt of the other soldiers hits, but the last Bel’Era had seen he was covered in already darkening bruises and had a gash running the length of his forearm. Bel’Era was not much better off.

She took a deep breath and walked slowly through the clearing, noting each bloodied and battered face she passed. After what seemed like hours she reached a rock where she found Solas’ discarded staff sticking out from a bush, behind which she found _him_ , sprawled out in a seemingly unnatural way and seemingly only semi-conscious.

“Fenedhis! Solas, hahren, can you hear me?” Bel’Era dropped to her knees and tugged him free of the thorny bush and onto the ground in front of her. His eyes were butted with pain, but he managed to meet her gaze and nod. “I am okay lethallan,” he slurred. Bel’Era blew a raspberry at that and he choked out a laugh, squeezing his eyes shut. His jaw was clenched, and Bel’Era instinctively tried to soothe him, placing a hand to his cheek and murmuring quietly in Elvhen. She pulled back a bit and began inspecting his body for wounds, tugging his leathers aside and prodding at various parts of his arms and legs. The gash on his arm was not as deep as she initially thought, but before she could feel relieved she spotted the wet patch of blood lower on his stomach that was quickly spreading. “Fen’Harel ver na, Solas you stoic asshole, why didn’t you _tell_ me you were injured this badly?” Bel’Era cursed, her words panicked and knitting together. His eyebrows raised slightly at the insult and he opened one eye to peer at her. “I did, actually. You seemed otherwise occupied hurling insults at the templar in front of you.” he croaked. While she was happy he was speaking, each word was met with a gasp for air and his breath was shallow and laboured. She hastily pulled at her belt looking for a health potion which she knew she didn’t have. For the umpteenth time that day she cursed herself for not being better prepared. _This never would have happened if you had been prepared, and weren’t acting like a stupid da’len with a crush_ she thought bitterly and she rubbed at her forehead with the back of her hand. _Okay, we just gotta get crafty now._

She tried ripping a piece of armour off to use as a bandage before remembering that her armour was, in fact, made of leather and therefore not that easy to tear. When she tried to pull her cowl off of her head, she lost her grip and ended up elbowing herself in the chest, affectively winding herself and sending herself into a coughing fit. She then immediately got herself tangled up in her satchel of collected herbs, cursing and grumbling to herself. She placed her bag down with a sigh of frustration, and she noticed then that Solas was looking at her with heavy-lidded eyes, amusement plain on his face. “Not a word,” Bel’Era warned, and she began rifling through her bag, throwing out twigs and pebbles as she went.

She pulled a couple elfroot leaves out and smiled triumphantly, holding it up for Solas to see. “Alright, I just need to crush these up and boil them in some water for tea-” Her sentence was cut short, as Solas pulled the leaves from her fingers and popped them into his mouth, crunching down on them with his teeth. “Or, okay, that works too I suppose. Just thought it might taste better as a tea."

“I despise tea,” he murmured before his eyes shut again and he went still.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading, if you don't mind please comment saying what you thought!


End file.
